Chapter 2
R ival.
When I lifted my hand to sand the wood plank for the accent wall I was working on, my eyes lowered to my ring finger. It was bare but felt weighted with the imaginary reminder that as of ten twenty-three last night, I officially became a married man.
Sailor Addison was now Sailor Hassan. The brilliant, sexy, incredibly stubborn and competitive woman I had been intrigued with over the last three months was now my wife. People would assume I was crazy for marrying a woman I knew little to nothing about and it would be crazy if I didn’t know Sailor, but I did.
For the past couple months I had been in her home for several hours a day. It was interesting the things you could learn about a person from just being in their personal space. I paid attention to detail.
I knew her favorite foods, the wine she preferred, what her perfume smelled like. I was well versed in unimportant things such as the temperature she liked to keep her home in order to feel comfortable. Sailor’s thermostat never rose above sixty-nine degrees. I determined she appreciated layering up to balance her comfort. It was always freezing in her place but she would move about in oversized sweatshirts, fuzzy socks, and thick frumpy robes instead of adjusting the temperature.
Also, in the privacy of her home, Sailor was more reserved in contrast to the well-polished, labeled appearance she presented each time she left the house—makeup flawless, clothes and shoes expensive, and not a hair out of place. All of which she shed the minute she walked through the door, electing for comfort apparel.
Sailor had insecurities; she faced the world with a mask that she was only comfortable removing when she was alone. Even when her siblings visited, she kept up the facade, which was odd to me. They were her family and loved her dearly, but she still donned that mask, hiding herself when they visited.
I was certain the only reason she felt comfortable being exposed around me was because I didn’t matter. I didn’t fit into her world. She was attracted to me, for sure. She flirted tirelessly, which I avoided because the woman was dangerously gorgeous with a body that had men willing to take whatever she was willing to offer, typically only sex. Sailor easily challenged decisions I made to stay focused on building my business and not be distracted by women who didn’t want anything serious.
Her sharp wit and timeless beauty would have me breaking my own rules but her eyes, they exposed Sailor’s truths and drew me in the most. She was longing for someone to truly see her. Sex was just as much a mask as her appearance. Sex, Sailor offered freely. It pissed me off hearing the conversations she had with men, offering her body like it shouldn’t be honored and protected, but it was an act for Sailor.
The one thing she wouldn’t offer was herself. She wouldn’t share her emotions, feelings, fears, and insecurities. Those were the things I wanted from Sailor. I wanted what she held close which was why I’d agreed to this ridiculous marriage in the first place.
I also agreed to stipulations that would present the assumption of me being a terrible person, a man after her money. I wasn’t. I didn’t give a damn about the financial terms of the prenup she drafted, beyond how it would allow me a year married to Sailor. In that year, I planned to prove that she deserved so much more than men who only wanted access to her body but didn’t give a fuck about her.
Sailor used sexuality as a way to control her life. She also used it as a way to intimidate men. What man wanted a woman who fucked for sport. Most wouldn’t take her seriously enough to require anything beyond a few hours in her bed. I saw right through the act. Sailor wanted more, however, for some reason, she didn’t feel she deserved more. She did and I was going to make sure she got it.
Which was why even though she was drunk off her ass I agreed to a marriage I shouldn’t have then fucked my wife to consummate the occasion after we promised to love and honor one another. I was certain Sailor didn’t mean one damn word of the vows she delivered.
She said them because I told her I refused to sleep with another woman who wasn’t my wife. That was true, so I hadn’t been dishonest, but her determination to win was another driving force. The alcohol she consumed altered her judgment but not enough to be completely oblivious to what she agreed to.
Sailor was my wife.
No one would believe this. Hell, she was born into a family of attorneys. Both her brother and sister shared a practice with Sailor as equal partners. Her father was a top-notch criminal attorney. I would bet that if she challenged this, when she challenged this, they would employ all their knowledge and resources to find a loophole to get Sailor out of this mess she created.
Regardless, I would fight. Thanks to my very thorough and determined wife, I doubted the legitimacy of our union could be challenged. I would, however, refuse an annulment or divorce if it came to that. Maybe I was fucking crazy. The Addisons were going to assume I was either crazy or a gold digger. Hell, did that term apply to men?
My phone buzzed with a call, granting me a moment to escape my chaotic thoughts. I groaned, realizing it was my boy Jairo.
“Yeah…” He was about to give me shit but I set myself up for this.
“Did you consummate?”
I frowned hard. “Fam, that’s none of your business.”
“It’s my business, Rival. When you force me to witness you marrying a woman neither of us know, then I have the right to ask if you made it official.”
“I know her…” was my only response.
“So that’s a yes?”
“That’s a mind your fucking business.”
He laughed lightly. Jairo and I had been friends since college. He was about the only person in my life with a consistent presence other than my mother but she lived on the West Coast, so I only saw her a handful of times a year. I didn’t have any siblings, my father passed when I was eight, and both of my parents’ families were on the West Coast as well. Here in Atlanta, Jairo was my only family. It had been that way since I came here for college and never left years ago.
“Is something funny?”
“You marrying this woman is funny as hell, Rival. She’s pretty as fuck and seems to be the life of the party based on the ten minutes I got to interact with her online while you were promising to honor and obey, but I still don’t get why you married her.”
“It’s not for you to understand.”
“I’m your boy, the only family you have out here; so it’s for me to understand. Was that shit even legit? Like are you legally married?”
“Yeah, it’s legit. We’re legally married.”
“Damn…” he murmured, his tone laced with amusement when he asked, “She rich or something?”
My expression tensed.
“This isn’t about money.”
“Ah hell, she’s rich for sure.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You got all defensive and shit. I can hear it in your tone. What’s the deal? She need a husband and offer to pay you to play the part?”
“Fuck no.”
But if she divorces me I get half her net worth. Money I don’t fucking want.
“Then I don’t get it. Make it make sense, Rival.”
I leaned against the wall, dropped my head, and exhaled my frustration. “She’s special.”
“Special?”
“Yeah, special and I know that sounds crazy as hell but I like this woman. I want to be her husband.”
“Is this about Mesa and the celibacy thing?”
The mention of my ex made me tense.
“No, it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with my decision to be celibate.”
“You sure? She was pretty lit last night, were you? Maybe that’s what this is about?”
“Yeah damn, I’m sure. I can’t explain it Ro and maybe I’m crazy for this but I knew exactly what I was doing…”
Even if she didn’t.
“Aight then, you’re officially married. What now? She moving in with you? ’Cause you love that fucking house. I know for damn sure you’re not gonna sell it.”
Hell no I’m not. I did love my house which was why I added that she had to live with me as a term of the prenuptial. A prenuptial she drafted while taking shots of Hennessy. I was pretty sure she wasn’t taking any of this seriously. Not even the part about doing an online ceremony. When they asked about a marriage license, she printed one offline, which we filled out and she proceeded to take it to a friend who lived in the building to sign and file. I still didn’t think she was taking any of what was happening seriously.
“I’m not selling my house. She’ll live with me.”
“This is the woman who lives in that expensive ass high rise, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
Jairo and I spoke often which meant he was aware of most of my jobs, especially when they paid as much as Sailor was paying me to create custom accent walls—a handcrafted design behind her bed and one in the living room with shelving.
“Those are million plus properties, family.”
“You do realize my house is valued at over a million dollars, right?”
“I do and your shit is historical. Old bones and in need of a lot of love and care. Her place is a turnkey million-dollar property.”
“Are you talking shit about my house?”
He laughed “Nah because you’re sensitive as fuck about that place. What I’m saying is your house, regardless of the value, is not in that expensive ass building where she lives. Two very different lanes. I’m surprised she agreed to live with you and not the other way around.”
She would have agreed to just about anything I asked last night. She was drunk, wanted to fuck, and not the type of woman who accepted no as an answer. I also truly believed she felt there was a way to work her way out of this marriage after she got what she wanted. My dick.
Sailor came from a family of very powerful lawyers and was a legal shark herself. The law was the law and marriage was pretty cut and dry. If we had to face a jury of our peers with her father or siblings defending her, I might be concerned, but that wasn’t the case. Not with our situation.
“You’re talking like you don’t know me.”
He laughed again. “I know you better than anyone, Rival. Which is why none of this makes sense but I’m gonna mind my business. If shit goes left and you need a character witness, you know I’m there. I won’t hold you. Just wanted to check in to see if this was truly legit and if you’d come to your senses. Apparently not.”
“Don’t you think you should have done that last night?” I smirked.
“Nah, my brother asked me to stand in as a witness. That’s what I was gonna do. I could get clarity later, but you were firm in your decision. So that was good enough for me. I’ve got a client pulling up. I’ll get with you later. Maybe you and wifey can come to dinner or something. I probably need to get to know her since she’s sis now.”
“No the fuck you don’t.” I frowned at the amusement in his tone.
He laughed again. “Later, Rival, and good luck with this shit.”
I locked my phone, placed it back on the table near the stairwell and got back to sanding so I could have the boards stained before the weekend. I should have been focusing, but unfortunately my mind was on my wife. A wife I had a feeling I would have to fight hard as hell to keep.